


The consequences of games

by Horizon



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Love, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 14:58:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1822612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Horizon/pseuds/Horizon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Petyr and Sansa's union. Forever?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The consequences of games

"You think you know me"?... "I know what you want", she replied, looking up with parted lips and an air of newfound confidence. She looked right at him, her clear blue eyes meeting his grey green stare. "Do you"? he asked, feeling unsure of himself for the first time in a long time. What did she mean? Had she been observing him all this time, had she seen how his desire for power, his schemes, his quest for everything had slowly but surely set light to a fire of desire for her. But did she feel anything like it for him? She'd turned and walked away after he kissed her in the courtyard, in the snow. She'd kissed back for a brief moment, or at least he thought so. He wasn't sure, emotions had overcome him and he'd acted out of character. He needed her to trust him. She was his triumph card, his key to the north and a foothold to continue the climb. The climb that would eventually lead him to the iron throne. Thoughts were rushing through his mind as he kept his stare focused on her. A master at concealing his inner workings. "You want me to become your queen once you have orchestrated my reign over winter fell, the eyrie and the north. But you also just want me".

He could feel her words hit him and in that instance the poor little boy full of love for the Tully girl was back. Daring to love, lust, dream about someone he couldn't have. Her gaze never left his face and her heartbeat told her she had understood it right. He lusted after her, she could have guessed that. But in the moment she saved him from being thrown out the moon door, his heart belonged to her. No one had ever saved Petyr Baelish, until today. 

He composed himself. "And what do you want, Sansa"? He wouldn't acknowledge what she had just uttered. How could he? How could he begin to find the words, buried deep inside as well as written across his entire being. He wanted everything. The longing he had held since a child to belong. He needed to be powerful. He would never again be the victim of another's decisions. Yet, he deeply longed to belong. Belong to someone with his ambition, a natural sense to rule and yet someone who wouldn't turn him away or let him get speared by swords. Sansa wanted to be queen. She had always said that! She may have been a silly young girl once but even then, her girl fantasies were of being queen one day. She wasn't a girl any longer. Sitting on her bed, looking at him intently was a young woman. A queen in the making.

"I want you to take me home" she replied. "Take me home to Winterfell and find a way to make me queen". As she spoke she stood up and walked to him. Only the sensation of blood rushing inside his head stopped him from leaping towards her and grabbing her. He felt his desire stir all throughout his body. She was standing just inches from him, almost his own height, her eyes staring defiantly into his. "And once you are queen, what do you propose my part shall be"? He was sure she could feel the electricity expanding from him, like an invisible magnetic field, buzzing between them. And she could, she felt it too. She looked at him. The man who at first had scared her, but whom with time, against the background of the intrigues of Kingslanding, she had come to admire. Then, on the night on his ship something else had happened. A first inkling of what was to become. When he took the necklace off her, crushed the glass bead with his knife and admitted he in fact was behind the killing of Joffrey. She had begun to see the man. The man who admitted his naked ambition to her. The man who's ambition needed her and who's need for her would keep her safe. His determination to risk everything to get what he desired. Since that night she dreamt of him. He would risk everything, for her. She'd imagined herself with him. Hearing Aunt Lysa moan on their wedding night was torture. But in her heart, she knew, with time, it would be her... He would make it happen. She wanted him to teach her everything! 

" whatever you desire as long as you take me with you". Her sentence was hardly finished as his lips were upon hers, pressing against her. With an intensity only pent up emotions suppressed over days of near death experiences could conjure, he pressed all of himself onto her. Moving his hands to hold her head, opening her mouth with his pressing tongue. Sansa reacted immediately. Although new to the physical aspect of having a man full of desire and whom she desired upon her, her sensations drove her instinctively. Her tongue met his, she pressed back her body against him. Her breathing paced faster and she could feel her need welling up within herself. Petyr moved closer and as his weight pushed against her she stumbled backwards until by the bed, his body moving with hers in unison. He pulled away and looked at her. There was no need to say anything. There was going to be days and years for talking. 

Sansa tugged on his mockingbird pendant, looking to unclasp it, wanting to see him. She hadn't seen a man fully naked before but she wanted to feel his skin, to touch him. Petyr helped her. He'd regained some of his composure although his mind was dizzy with fire for this young woman. He slipped off his robe leaving him standing in his gold silk undershirt. Sansa's hands moved across his chest, feeling him through the soft material. He stood still,  
letting her fingers explore him. Revelling in feeling her touch upon him. In that moment she looked at him and smiled. A wave that can only be described as raw need overcame him. He pulled at the clasps of her dress, slipping it off her shoulders to the floor. His practiced fingers undid the laces of her corset, casting it aside in haste. And then he stopped. Sansa suddenly felt vulnerable, the confidence and boldness she had felt earlier disappearing under his sparkling green gaze. In that moment she was no longer a queen in the making, she was Sansa, the maiden, standing in her translucent slip in front of the man her heart had come to love. 

He sensed her shift and responded to her vulnerability. He kissed her gently caressing her cheek with one hand whilst his other held her close. "We can stop, nothing more needs to happen yet" he offered. Her tongue moving into his mouth searching for his told him what he needed to know. He moved to lay her down on the narrow bed. His mouth broke free from hers moving down her neck, his hands moving upwards over her rounded breasts. His fingers brushed over the silk covering her nipples, the sensation and her arousal stiffening them. Slipping the thin material off her shoulder, exposing her naked breasts, he leaned down taking a nipple in his mouth. Sansa moaned, egging him on making his soft licking into harder sucking. Whilst not breaking stride he used his one free hand to push off his boots and began untying his breaches. Sansa sensing his movements through half closed eyes reached out her hands pulling at him. With a swift movement he undid his tunic and sat next to her, naked. As she opened her eyes she saw his scar, an angry looking gash from just below his throat all the way to his navel. She wanted to ask him about it but now wasn't the time so instead she traced her fingers down it. Petyr stirred, unable to take much more of the intensity between them without release he moved on top of her. She felt his manhood against her thigh and a jolt ran through her making her spread her legs to fit round him. Only restraint gained with age and experience held him back. Slowly, whilst entangled in a deep kiss did he move his right hand down between her thighs. Feeling her wetness spreading between her legs he gently slipped in his middle finger into her warmt. Sansa moaned into their kiss, moving her hips to accommodate him. Pulling his mouth free he began to kiss downwards, her neck, her collarbone, softly biting and kissing each nipple, her stomach, making his way to the soft red tuft of hair. Sansa was on fire with all these sensations. When petyr opened her up and slid his tongue into her womanhood she felt like she would explode, pulling at him, grabbing his hair. Expertly he continued to lick, kiss and suck her inner folds, toying with her bud, egged on by her scent and dripping wetness. As Sansa's breathing intensified, little screams of "Petyr" escaped her filling him with an urgent need to posses her. But he could feel her close and continued his strong rhythmic movements. Sansa grabbed at her linen sheets, pushing her hips into his face and a slow explosion began to engulf her, starting from the pit of her stomach, shuddering through her arms and legs. He could feel her hands dig into his hair, pulling it whilst lost in ecstasy. Rising up he grabbed her back pulling her up with him. Lifting her up by her ass cheeks he positioned her onto his lap, facing each other. Whilst looking into her eyes, darting his tongue to run them over her open mouth, he guided his manhood into her slippery crevice, expanding her and slowly filling her up. It took all his restraint to not urgently push inside but he was careful to not hurt her. Sansa yelped as her maiden hood was no longer but the pain soon subsiding to the fullness of Petyr inside her. With his hands he started to guide her motion, all the while kissing her, wrapped in a close embrace. Her breasts touching his chest as she rocked forward, he grabbed one, squeezing it, his breath speeding up with each move she made. Their rhythm in sync he felt himself squeezed by her, a rush of sensations building up to the point of no return, he thrust himself spilling into her whilst seeking her mouth, her body, all of her. Spent, they embraced and slowly untangled. Lying down he nuzzled her, breathing in her sweet lemon scent. She caressed him, running her fingers over his chest, softly kissing his shoulder and he sensed her drifting to sleep. He closed his eyes, happy.

A few hours later they woke up. Gently kissing they both knew a new way of life had just begun. Sansa helped him dress and with a last embrace Petyr left to return to his chambers. An hour later, advising little Robin, he sensed her presence before he looked up. She walked out, a beautiful strong woman in a black mocking bird dress. "Shall we go". The players were ready. Petyr's eyes didn't move away from her even for a moment. His heart beating hard within his chest, his love so strong he knew it would be his undoing. His mind was racing. How could he forever conceal the truth about the betrayal of Ned Stark? "Given the opportunity, what do we do to those who hurt the ones we love".


End file.
